The Last Piece of Me {HyunLix}

Sand.

Hyunjin.

"What's that..." I asked quietly as he finished his drawing. The pen tickled my wrist as he drew a line a little way down my arm, following one of my more protrusive veins. He was using it as a kind of guide, I thought; but if he was trying to draw a straight line, it amused me how badly he was doing. He drew a few points at the end, and a triangle down where he'd started, at my wrist. Like some kind of... oh.

"An arrow." he said, not looking at me. He kept making little details on the little doodle, and I watched intently as he did. It was a unique gesture, and for the second time since I'd met Felix, I had no idea whether he'd meant anything significant by it, or if he was just cluelessly bold. I got the feeling, this time was more of a calculated move than putting his number in my phone. My skin began to prickle excitedly at the slight brush of his shaky hand as he dotted little nothings here and there, it burned, not from the ink; his touch was scolding me painfully... wonderfully. It might have been the biggest rush of emotion I'd ever let myself feel in my life. I didn't know whether to pull my arm away from him, or move closer. I couldn't do either as it seemed, so I stayed frozen in place, letting his skin brush mine with the nagging wish for more, making my pulse quicken. I took a slow breath.

Calm. Down.

This was Felix. This was not what I'd planned at all. This was...

I wanted to convince the aching in my bones that this was wrong. I'd been trying to do just that since the museum; begging myself to get my shit together, to remember what I was staying away from him for. It hadn't helped that Han was the one keeping my secret, because he was always not-so-subtly hinting that Felix and I were destined to be somehow. God, I really needed to find a way to shake that guy off; he was ruining everything I'd managed to keep sacred this whole year. But now it seemed my fragile, stone cold persona was crumbling at this starry-eyed boy's very will. At his name; and now, at his very compelling attempt to break me properly. An arrow. What a smart fucking move. Perhaps, I thought; just maybe it wasn't Jisung's fault that my life was suddenly too full of light again; maybe it was mine, for being so weak to the sunshine.

"What kind of arrow?" I whispered, not sure if he'd even hear me. Blood was rushing so fast through me that it was all I could hear; through my head, through my hands... I hoped to god the flood of new emotion wouldn't make an appearance anywhere else. That'd probably scare him off for good; I almost laughed at my giddiness.

Felix looked down at the pen, then at the arrow, then up at me. His eyes were full of stories; I felt like if I asked him politely enough, he'd be more than happy to tell me everything about those eyes. But I was only really curious about one thing right now: who was I in his perspective? Which one of the tragic fools did I look like through his eyes?

"Lead." he said, quite decisively, "if the gel was yellow, it might be the gold arrow... but I think you suit the lead one more anyway."

"How so?"

A girl in the row after us turned in her seat with a scowl, "will you guys keep it down?" she hissed.

"Sorry!' Felix whispered back, a blush creeping up his face. I didn't want him to keep it down; I wanted to— no, I needed to know what he was about to say. Fuck.

I flipped my sketchbook to a blank page and slid it over to him with a normal pen, then swept the gel-pen from his grasp and nodded, not bothering to hide my desperation anymore. He sighed and stared down at the page for a moment, then picked up the pen, and with the most beautiful handwriting I'd ever seen, he began to write. It was so tidy and small, like a print or a word document, I was almost certain he'd practised doing this a thousand times just to spite me. When he was done, after many moments of tedious waiting, he gave the book back to me and turned back to the lesson with a blank expression. I took a minute to admire how neat his handwriting was, and then began to read. I wished I hadn't as I did. Maybe I could have saved his eyes a lot of pain if I'd just shut the book instead.